Farmer in the City
by OmoMeowth
Summary: Paulo mercilessly beats Lucy with his genitals.


Her index slid between her lips and pressed down softly. Bits of saliva coated the tip, claw gripped between her teeth. Her back was against the cotton of her comforter, big toes pressed against each other. Her right arm was wrapped around her chest, breasts supported by the forearm; left elbow idling on her right hand, its index between her lips.

She let her finger go a bit deeper. Only a centimeter – maybe less. And she sucked on it. Her tongue slathered it in spittle; the scent of her own mouth wafting up to her nostrils. She squirmed a bit. Her toes rubbed together. Her breasts shifted slightly. Her brow furled, just a bit. And then just a bit deeper. She let it rub the roof of her mouth…

Her body stiffened, and her toes separated. The slippery finger left her mouth and rubbed against her bed sheets. She sat up.

"Who is it?"

"Honey, it's your friend, Paulo."

"… What? Paulo's here? Now?"

The door knob rattled, and the door slid open.

"In the flesh." It was his all-too recognizable voice. Though, it was the trademark sense of undeserved self-confidence that gave him away.

She sat up and looked alert. When his brown spikes poked through the door, and his luminescent eyes met hers, she withdrew. A faint pink glowed on her cheeks.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Wow, what a greeting…"

"Well, I mean…" She cocked an eyebrow. "I expected a call or something first. You know, since that is the normal, polite thing to do."

"Since when am I 'polite?'" Paulo looked at her with his signature form of coolness.

"Since when are you normal?"

"True, true… I guess you could say I'm… extraordinary."

Lucy looked at him, deadpan. She wiped her finger against her comforter as she sat up on the edge of the bed.

"So, what were you up to?" Paulo asked, an accusatory smile spread across his face.

"None of your business. What are you doing here?"

"Gosh, you shouldn't be so rude to your guest."

"I wouldn't be if you would just tell me why you've decided to stop by at eight-thirty without calling or anything."

He paused for a moment. "I was bored."

"You were bored?"

"Yeah. Bored."

"So, that lead you here… how?" Annoyance and confusion was cropping up in her voice once again.

"I dunno. We always have fun. I was thinking you could cheer me up." Now it was Paulo's turn to withdraw.

"Cheer you up?" The confusion was still there, but the annoyance had faded.

"Uh, yeah, you know, I was bored and, you know, kinda down."

"Oh… I, uh… Yeah, I guess we could hang out for awhile if you wanted to. It's just, call next time."

"Heh, sorry, I guess I just wanted it to be a surprise."

Lucy squirmed a bit without thinking.

"I guess it isn't completely unwelcome. We _do _always manage to have fun."

"See! I knew it was a good idea!"

"Hey! That doesn't mean I'm giving you permission to just come over whenever you want without calling!"

"Heh, fine, fine! I'll call! Now aren't you going to invite me to sit down?"

Lucy looked at him again, this time playful exasperation mixed in with her deadpan.

"Huh! How rude! I'll guess I'll just have to find a place to sit down then…"

Paulo took the next step in his elaborate, improvised dance and walked up to Lucy. He sat next to her, as close he could get, his body gliding against hers as he sat down.

"Ah, much better."

Lucy's cheeks darkened imperceptibly. She sat there for a moment in silence.

"You're an idiot."

"But you haven't moved away yet," Paulo said with a smile.

What bothered her more than anything was that he was right. Her initial reaction was to move, and if it had been anyone else, she would have with discomfort and haste. But there was something odd about _his _body. Something different. It didn't feel like a David or a… well, Paulo. It was warmer and softer. It was more real, and more inviting. She would never admit, not even to herself, but it felt more like Mike than anyone else.

She swallowed. Why did it feel like that? Why hadn't she moved yet?

The next few moments were tense. The pleasure Paulo had at one point felt had rapidly switched to a cold mixture of embarrassment, regret, and nervous anticipation. He didn't know what to do. He hadn't expected her not to move initially, but even after pointing it out, she remained.

And then he felt it. She was so… _warm._ Her fur was so silky, especially against his. The regret was becoming more and more prominent, and then suddenly, the opposite; eventually it dissipated to nothing, and the feeling of their legs pressed together became the only thing that mattered. Suddenly, his eyes couldn't be torn away from her soft, inviting thighs; lest they were made to look at her chest, which was a level of desirable that could only be called fetish.

They sat there, the moments and muscles only growing tenser, until there was a release. There was a mutual understanding – unspoken – that they were both content. And while the moments were still tense, their bodies relaxed, and their pulses started to slow by increments.

Paulo desperately struggled for something smooth to say. He wanted to defuse the bomb of a situation he was in. But he couldn't. Nothing seemed appropriate. He could either leave the position and crack a joke, but then he would be denying the almost primal sensation running through his veins. He could attempt to pursue these feelings, but then he would be going against logic. Against the moral aspects of himself that screamed to stay away from the beautiful temptress seated next to him.

But why? He considered it "logic," but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what was logical about it. He knew it was wrong, that there was something about it that was taboo; yet, he couldn't identify what that something was. And each second spent pressed against the milky fluff to his side was another step toward his own mental fog.

And he felt her. She shifted positions and he felt her legs grind against his; and in the excitement, he felt her palm rest halfway on both of their thighs. He could feel his body betraying him. He felt his own arousal steadily becoming visible. And while normally such a thing would… embarrass him, it wasn't like that this time. Something about it felt liberating. Something about it felt right – even if Lucy saw.

He turned his head, and she did the same. And at that moment, when their eyes met once again, he knew there was no turning back. A process had begun he couldn't have hoped to have stopped. He was engaged in a system that he neither could nor wanted to escape. And into the fog he went, descending into a depravity, allowing his sense of self to be lost.

The loss of self was sweet. It tasted like… a woman's saliva. And it felt like a woman's lips. And its fur was the consistency of cloud, as it was the color. He squeezed her hand as his tongue pressed against hers, and they slid against each, the sweetness spreading and the heat increasing.

His hand broke free; it left her palm and squeezed the velvety fur of her thighs. There was no reaction. He went a bit deeper on her leg, but still, no reaction. And then, with just another inch, he felt her body stiffen. He could already feel the heat of her genitals, and his were beginning to throb.

He stopped himself. He was tempted to go further, but he didn't want to… mess it up. It felt so right to him, but what did it feel like to her? And so he pulled back, and then again, went back to where he was, this time knowing how far he could safely go. And he repeated this, before adding another fraction of an inch, and then another. And each time her contortions dimmed, he would go farther; until he finally felt the end: a quick brush against moist fur.

Lucy squirmed a bit and let out a soft moan. For the first time, both of their eyes opened, and they looked at each other. Neither knew what the other was thinking. It was such a bittersweet sensation.

Paulo pulled away from her for a moment. He continued to look into her eyes, both of their eyes low, both of their lips apart, their breath intermingling in the air. His hand was still placed on her thigh.

He gave her a soft squeeze and looked down for a moment. The position was scarier than he had thought, and he quickly found himself looking up again, unable to look away from her dim, penetrating eyes. But he didn't stop his improvised dance. He let his hand move up, and with each centimeter, he saw her face grow a bit more distant.

And then he felt it against the tips of his fingers. The second time, but the first time he remained. She let out a soft moan when his finger made contact. Her entire body tensed as it started to move, just rubbing the very top. A low yelp escaped her. She clasped her mouth shut with her own hand. Paulo paused for a moment, but when he saw that look in her eyes, he knew what he had to do.

He allowed his finger to touch there again, and he let it move slightly more liberally. He grazed over the clit, which seemed to draw the most poignant reaction from her; however, he did go a bit deeper, and found a place when his finger could slide in.

The spot was surprisingly wet. He felt his entire finger get encompassed in her juices, and curiously, he probed deeper. He spent several seconds exploring, seeing how far he could go before it was too far…

"Ugn, Paulo."

He quickly pulled out and looked at her, and he could tell that she wanted more.

Paulo paused. He pulled his fingers away from her privates and looked at her. She looked almost… disappointed. But he wasn't done. He dragged his damp fingers gently across her tummy, causing a quick, adorable giggle to rise up and escape her lips.

Though, when Lucy collected herself, she seemed more embarrassed than anything. She quickly apologized, her utter sincerity surprising Paulo. But before he responded with words, he stopped himself, and started moving his hand once again. This time, he placed his hand across her breast, feeling her nipple poke his palm. Her eyes widened and she let out a soft moan. He squeezed a bit, making her tense up further.

He fondled her, not sure what he preferred: the feeling of the breasts, or the response touching them elicited…

Though it seemed the experience was meant to be short lived. There was rasping at her door, and Paulo quickly recoiled. Lucy seemed to be in shock, but she quickly collected herself.

"W-who is it?" She swallowed.

"It's me." Jordan poked his unamused face into the room.

"What do you want?" Lucy asked, more calm and collected than either of them expected.

"Nothing." Jordan paused for a moment. "Just checking on you." He shot a nasty look at Paulo.

"Well, we're fine. So you can leave."

He shot another glance at Paulo, this time making it seem as though his sister's shortness was a result of something he had done. "Fine… But I'm leaving this open. And don't try to close it or I'll tell mom."

Jordan left. And with him he took the moment and all of their privacy. But neither of them were very concerned with that anymore. The aftertaste in their mouth seemed to be the only thing that mattered.


End file.
